(Note from the author: It's my time to put a spin on Skyrim. First off, I'm changing some names/genders around if it either suits me better or I don't quite recall the name. Anyway, here you'll follow the adventures of my original character, Dyce {pronounced DICE}. Since I'd refrain from describing him through another character's eyes, he's a Nord of average height, with green hair tousled up into a spiky style. He's rather brawny for his age, 21, and his eyes are a piercing ice-blue. Now, I'm also adding my own race into the Skyrim mix- the Avons. It's a race similar to the Khajiit and Argonian races, but is based off birds. Yes, they have wings. As for history, they've lived in Skyrim as long as the Nords have, and the two races are rather fond of each other. Now, I think I've wasted too much of your time now, so I'll take my leave and let you guys start reading. ~Nano)
Chapter 1
Cheating Death
"Hey, prisoner, wake up. Soverngarde awaits." I hear the low, raspy voice of the guard say. My eyes dart open, and I sit up on the dusty floor of my cell- no cots or blankets in here. My clothes are but rags, and only a small rope line is holding them on. A thicker rope binds my hands behind me.
"Up, prisoner." He says. I rise to my bare feet, and follow his voice out of his cell. I'm led outside, to the place where the Imperials execute their criminals. I wasn't the only one here headed for the block. There were three others- A Nord, an Avon, and a Khajiit. The Avon had his beak bound shut. The cat was an odd color- he was black mostly, but had stripes on him to make him look a zebra.
A crowd had gathered to the place. Tch. Had the commoners have nothing better to do than watch the death of four prisoners? "First up is Ralof of Riverwood." The guard captain, Tidus, spoke. The Nord next to me walked up.
He muttered, "Imperials and their damn lists… they should sleep with the damn things."
"You have been charged with treason to the Empire, as well as the murder of half a platoon of Imperial men. How do you plead?"
"Guilty of all charges." Ralof said, spitting at Tidus's boots. He was planted at the block, the executioner raising his axe. "My ancestors are smiling upon me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" Nothing else was said as the axe swung down, cleaving his head and silencing the brave Nord.
"Next, you there…" Tidus said to me, pointing to me. I walked forward, standing in front of him. "I'm afraid we don't have your name. Now-"
"It's Dyce." I mutter.
"Well, then, Dyce. You are charged with the destruction of Falkreath, as well as seventy-three confirmed counts of murder. How do you plead?"
I stood silent. The event that took place a week ago was already fading from my mind. A simple trading trip with my father gone horribly wrong. One minute, I was sitting on a bench, waiting for him to finish his purchases, the next I'm covered in blood, not my own, and holding a bent bronze sword in my hands. The details are blurry, but I'm sure I'd remember more, if I had longer to live.
"The accused stays silent and is therefore guilty of all charges." Tidus says. I'm forcefully pushed down on the block, and the blood from Ralof is still warm. I face the sky, pleading to the divines that I can find a safe haven in Soverngarde. I hear the call to lower the axe, and I brace myself for death's cold embrace…
…only, it does not come. Opening my eyes, I can see the executioner jumping in the air to try to catch his axe, which is hovering in mid air. "I swear, captain, I don't know what's going on!" he shouted. The crowd laughed.
"Just do your job, Dante." Tidus said. Just then, however, an explosion shattered part of the west wall. Soldiers, dressed in blue fabric tunics lined with fur, dove in. Nord and Avon alike are in their number, and their steel rings out for blood as the two sides clash. Avons on both sides took to the skies, fighting in the air above as the Nords clashed below.
One hand grabs me, and picks me up. "C'mon, Dyce, it's time to go." I hear. It belonged to an Avon, one with gray feathers and orange eyes to match his beak.
"As grateful as I am, why save me?" I ask as we ran, headed for a door that led underground.
"This rescue mission is because of two people here. There's of course, Ulfric Stormwing, the Avon who was next to you."
"And the other?"
"Well, he only ended up here because he was trying to get to you."
"So I'm being rescued because Ulfric Stormwing, leader of THE Stormwings, wanted to see me?"
The Avon and I hefted open the doors, and ducked inside, closing the barricades behind us. "Yeah, lucky you. The name's Owain, thanks for asking."
"Thanks for saving me. But now what?" I gestured to the barracks.
"Well, first we get you some weapons and armor." He rummaged through a few chests, pocketing coin and jewels where he could find them. I browsed a few weapon racks, and grabbed a steel longsword from its place on the wall. I strapped the belt it hung on to my waist, and found a pair of leather boots that served well for my feet.
"Here we are, this should fit." Owain said, tossing me a bundle of leather. I drop it to the ground. "What's wrong, allergic or something?"
"No, I just find armor cumbersome and restrictive. I'm fine in these rags for now." I said. I meant it, too. I'd rather my death not be because I was unable to swing my arms enough to block an attack.
"If you'd prefer to go almost as naked as a bar-wench, then I won't say anything."
"You just did," I joked, receiving a small laugh. "Now, let's get out of here, shall we?" I said, pointing to the hallways that led deeper into the prison.
"Indeed we shall, Dyce, my companion!" Owain said, drawing a wicked-looking mace from his hip. Together we started to walk, slowly and silently down the hallways. A few guards didn't notice us, but we had to kill a few.
"More guards. Six, if I counted correct." I said, ducking back behind a corner to Owain.
"Ha. No match for our skill, I'd wager." He scoffed. We turned the corner and charged. It was weird- when I swung my blade, my instincts took over- all I could feel was a bloodlust until our foes were dead. I blocked a swing with my blade, and jabbed outward, piercing a jugular.
Owain bashed a guard over his head with that mace, and the poor guy fell down into a puddle of his own blood and gray matter. I grabbed one of my nearby opponents and spun him around, smiling in delight when an arrow from his companion hit between his eyes. He was still living, so I used my hand to drive the arrow in further, silencing him.
My next kill was twofold, as I kicked one soldier to the ground, landing him on one Owain similarly dropped. I drove my sword down, piercing both hearts with one stab. Owain took out the archer in a less bloodthirsty manner, preferring to simply bash in the poor sod's back, cracking his spine.
I drove my sword in a little deeper, and I found myself liking the sound and feeling of my steel cutting flesh, muscle, and sinew. I eventually took my sword out, sliced the air to be rid of the blood, and sheathed it once more.
Owain was staring at me. "You know, I'm not one to judge, given I've taken more heads than I've received, but that was just disturbing." He bent down, searching through the bodies of the fallen.
"And that isn't?"
He hefted up a small coin purse, and dropped it into his own. "Hey, he won't be using it anymore." He said, stashing away more purses.
"Let's just go," I said, "The Imperials would have heard our battles by now." We headed down a tunnel, following a small stream out of the barracks. As I made my way down the caves, Owain poked through every small corner, adding what he could find to his coffers.
"Get down!" He somehow managed to yell in a whisper. "Bear, over yonder." Indeed, with a finger he pointed out the hulking beast. She lay down near a few corpses, and I could see Imperial cloth and bone stranded around. Her muzzle was stained with blood.
"Any way we can get past it?"
"No… neither do I have any bows… wait, stupid me, I keep forgetting I have these!" He flexed his wings, spreading out his feathers.
"I thought those were a part of you."
"Not the wings, what's in them." He said. Upon closer inspection, I could see several sharp, metallic points hidden within his feathers. "Wing-blades. They'll do the trick." He snapped his wings forward, and six of his blades flew towards the bear. They buried themselves in her neck, and she died before she could stand.
"Impressive."
Owain bowed. "Thank you." He retrieved his blades, fitting them in his wings again. "Now, let's skedaddle, shall we?" I nodded in agreement. We headed for the opening in the cave ahead, and the bright light hurt my eyes- being in a jail cell for several days could do that. Nonetheless, the light was inviting, and I walked through it to the beauty of Skyrim.
(A/N: and there you have it. I'll see you whenever I get around to updates, but for now, see ya! ~Nano)